Dovetail: A Novel(58)

“You can’t take Alice away from us,” Mae said, outraged. “Who will take care of us if she’s not here?”

“John is teasing you, Mae,” Alice said, but no one paid any attention.

“Oh, but you see, I have thought this through. All of you can play a part in filling Alice’s role when she is gone.” John grinned wickedly. “There are five of you sisters, plus Daisy. You can take turns filling the job, each of you doing it for a year or two. First Pearl and then Helen, then Emma, then the two of you. It could go right down the line. If you’ve been paying attention to Alice’s teachings, you’ll be able to do everything just as she does, and the household will run smoothly.”

“No one can cook like Alice,” Maude objected. “Besides, girls can’t leave home until they’re married. It’s a rule.”

Alice saw the twinkle in John’s eyes and felt a wellspring of dread at his response. She gave him a warning look, but he wasn’t watching her, too busy giving his attention to the twins.

“If that’s the case . . . ,” he said.

She knew how this sentence would end. To stop him, she reached out to grab his arm, but instead of making contact with him, her fingertips smacked against the still-hot mashed potato pan.

“Perhaps I will marry her,” John said. “If Alice will have me.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth than Alice gasped and cried out in pain, clutching her burned fingers with the other hand. She rushed to the sink and plunged her hand into a pot of soapy water. The twins pushed their chairs back and went to her side. From her spot in the corner, Daisy began to cry. “I don’t want Alice to go away!”

“Don’t cry, Daisy. No one’s going anywhere,” Alice said through gritted teeth. She grabbed the pitcher of water and poured some into the washbasin in the dry sink, then dipped her fingers into the water.

Now the twins and John were clustered around Alice, trying to get a good look at her injured fingers. “Is it bad?” Maude said, craning her neck.

“It’s nothing.” Alice winced.

“Let me see.” John eased his way past the girls and took Alice’s hand, carefully examining it. “It doesn’t look too serious. We should wrap it in a cold, wet compress.”

“We could put some butter on it,” Mae said.

“No, not butter.” John turned her hand over, caressing her wrist. “That’s proven to be wrong. Butter isn’t the best thing for a burn.”

A moment earlier, Alice had been upset with his shocking candor in front of her sisters, but now, despite the pain, she felt a rush of love and gratitude toward John. She could forgive him his lack of discretion.

John turned to her younger sisters. “Honey is better. Do you have any?”

“Down in the root cellar,” Alice said, speaking to the twins. “Could one of you please go down and get a jar of honey?”

“I’ll do it!”

“No, I’ll do it!”

Both girls ran out of the room, determined to beat the other one down the stairs to the cellar.

Alice took the opportunity to speak to John alone. She whispered, “You mustn’t talk like that in front of the girls. They are such chatterboxes that my father is sure to hear of it. And if Pearl finds out, she would certainly make trouble for us.”

He dampened a dish towel and pressed it against her fingers. “I’m not afraid of Pearl. I would love to tell the whole world how I feel about you, Alice Louise Bennett. What are your worries? Your father likes me, and my time here is coming to a close. There is not much he could do to me at this point.”

“You have mistaken his kindness for weakness,” she said. “Something you don’t want to do. My father is very protective of all his daughters. If he thinks there are improprieties between us, he would send you packing tonight.” Her large eyes implored him. “Please promise you won’t do anything more to put us at risk. We have so little time together.”

“I promise,” he said. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. And I apologize for speaking out of turn. It won’t happen again.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN





1916


My dearest Alice,

I want to apologize again, this time in writing, for having misspoken in front of your sisters. You are right, of course, in saying that I went too far and that my boldness could jeopardize our time together. If your father found out and took issue with the two of us, I would never forgive myself for putting you in the position of having to defend our deceptive ways.

I can tell you only that my emotion got the better of me. You are my heart, Alice, and I would love for everyone to know that you are mine. I hate that we are doing this behind your father’s back. I understand why you want it this way, but I would like something more for the both of us.

For that reason, I feel the need to tell the truth about me and my life before I met you. I told you that my father is in prison, and the reason he was convicted, but I did not tell you the full story behind the crime. My mother once cautioned me against sharing what I am about to tell you, in the hopes of sparing me the pain she and my father faced. I did, in fact, promise her that I would never tell anyone, a promise I am breaking in order to be honest with you. I am not exaggerating when I say that the thought of breaking a promise to my mother has been a moral dilemma for me, but after giving it much thought, I am pressing forward.